


The Thought that Counts

by scaredpotter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, M/M, drarry fic battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 16:17:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1556516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaredpotter/pseuds/scaredpotter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco is cooking and Harry is confused. Slightly PWP</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Thought that Counts

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [drarry fic battle](http://queergladers.tumblr.com/post/83298601251/drarry-fic-battle-queergladers-vs) between me and [Kat](http://queergladers.tumblr.com). I am 4 days late and 400 words short but this was hell to write and I gave up. It is absolute crap.  
> Theme: domestic + kitchen

Harry woke up to the smell of burnt.

He flung his arm across the bed to capture Draco, but it fell through the air and landed flat on the mattress. It took a few seconds for his sleep drunk brain to realise that Draco wasn’t there. A vague concern stirred in the pit of his stomach, but the wards told him that no one uninvited had been paying their home a visit. Groaning slightly, Harry left his warm bed in order to find Draco. He spotted a pair of trousers lying tossed on the floor and pulled them on as he stumbled out of the bedroom.

He located the source of the smell to the kitchen, where he found Draco bent over the stove cursing. His cheeks were flushed, the blonde hair as messy as it would get and despite the deep frown on his face he was absolutely gorgeous. For a moment he looked so very alive and Harry felt a surge of affection for his partner. Somewhere along the way Draco had stopped sneering at him and began smiling, and it was enough for Harry to forget his name. They had been together for quite some time now, yet Draco still took his breath away. Something told him that might never change.

Most everyone – including Harry himself – was amazed by the path which their relationship had taken (save for Ron Weasley, who was slightly horrified), and though Draco had always managed to get under his skin in one way or another he hadn’t expected to fall quite so hard. Even less had he expected Draco to fall with him. Hermione had been sceptical towards their relationship considering their history; Harry believed it worked because of it.

Their kitchen, however, was a disaster; broken tools lay on the floor together with the remains of a kitchen towel which Harry suspected had been on fire. Draco opened the oven, but quickly closed it again as a cloud of thick smoke welled out; a sharp smell made Harry wrinkle his nose in disgust, and he wondered idly if Draco was planning to poison him.

“What are you doing?” he asked eventually.  
“Breakfast.” Draco replied, not looking up. His shoulders were tense and the movements were short and hasty, but his face remained unmoved.

Harry frowned. “You don’t cook.”  
“Yes, Harry, I am aware.”

Harry took a step closer to get a better view of the damage. Soot was covering the kitchen counter as well as the surrounding walls, and the toaster looked like it had been on fire. He frowned at the sight, knowing how poorly muggle equipment responded to magic.

As if reading his mind, Draco sighed and dropped the tools he was holding. “I was going to do eggs, the way you like them, see? But this fucking _thing_ just turned it into ashes.” He pointed accusingly at the frying pan, as if its mere existence was a mockery to him.

“Why would you make me breakfast?” Harry asked with a puzzled expression. He tried to recall if there was a birthday or some kind of anniversary he had missed, but it didn’t seem right (he could practically hear Draco roll his eyes and sniff “ _sentiment_ ” at the mere suggestion).

“Because,” Draco pulled a hand through his hair but despite the distressed look on his face he kept Harry’s gaze steady. “I love you.”

Harry blinked. “You made breakfast to tell me you love me?”

“Tried to,” Draco muttered with a scowl.

“So much for being Outstanding in Potions.” Harry observed with a glance at the disastrous attempt, earning himself a two-fingered salute.

Pulling out his wand Draco began to wipe the place, too concentrated to notice the hair falling into his eyes. He had his own wand now; Harry had sought him up to return it shortly after the War. Draco had apologised and when Harry confusedly asked for what, he had stared at him in disbelief before slamming the door shut. Two days later Harry came back.

In hindsight, it was the best decision he had made.

 “I love you too.” Harry blurted, meeting Draco’s gaze with a racing heart.  
“I know.” said Draco, but a tint blush crept on his cheeks.

Within a few steps Harry had closed the gap between them and found himself nose to nose with Draco, the other man merely an inch taller. He was close enough to distinguish each of Draco’s pale eyelashes which framed his eyes, and the sight made Harry’s heart flutter. He wondered to himself if Draco had said the words to anyone before. He suspected not.

Warmth spread in his stomach at the realisation, making him feel unexpectedly touched by Draco’s attempt to be romantic. He could have easily called for Kreatcher, who happily obeyed anyone with the Black family’s blood running through their veins. Instead he’d chosen to make it himself, despite it being “ _house elves’ work_ ”and the various muggle tools which still received suspicious glares from time to time, and Harry decided that he could burn down their entire apartment if he wanted to because it was the thought that counted and really, Harry could not imagine a better thought than this.

He pushed a strand of hair from Draco’s face and placed it behind his ear before tugging him closer and clasping their lips together. The response came immediately, the force behind it making Harry’s breath hitch in his throat. He deepened the kiss, their tongues brushing softly against each other and Draco hummed quietly, sending shivers of pleasure down Harry’s spine. Hands were touching his shoulders and sliding along bare chest, travelling down his body before they stopped by the waist. He melted into the touch as the fingers made their way along the waistband and the mouth disappeared from his, making him groan in protest.

“You’re wearing my pants,” Draco mumbled, his breath tickling Harry’s neck.

Harry looked down and realised that he was.  
“I guess we should do something about that.” he replied feeling slightly lightheaded, and captured Draco’s wicked grin in another kiss.

Draco’s mouth was hot and eager, making him forget everything but the sweeping tongue against his and the sudden need to feel his body closer. Stumbling out in the hallway, Harry nearly tripped over the pair of shoes he had carelessly kicked off the previous evening, promising Draco to not leave them like that. “Shut up,” he muttered as Draco raised him a mocking eyebrow and Harry caught his lips between his own before he could say anything.

They made their way to the bedroom in a rush, clothes thrown on the floor and kicked aside as they stripped each other off. Harry pushed Draco onto the bed and paused for a moment, taking in the whole sight of him. His body was pale and slender, but Harry knew the strength which hid beneath. White scars played across his torso and Harry still couldn’t quite face it without a twinge of guilt.

At Draco’s impatient growl he climbed on top of him, the touch of their naked skin making it hard to breathe properly. Harry’s head was spinning and he ran his fingertips over Draco’s chest, meeting the grey eyes who were watching him intently. His pupils were dilated with desire and Harry had never quite wanted anything so much in his life before. He leant forwards and kissed him again, roughly this time, as if kissing him hard enough would say all those things he had no words for. Draco’s mouth was like an anchor, keeping him grounded when he did not know what was up or down. He could feel Draco’s nails digging into his hips and a moan escaped him before he could stop it. Draco’s teeth were everywhere, nibbling and biting and Harry shifted slightly, the friction causing Draco to jerk his hips upwards with a gasp.

He knew Draco’s body by now; knew what made him moan, what drove him mad with lust and what made him beg. The knowledge made him feel ridiculously smug and greedy.

Making love to Draco was quick and rough and Harry found himself wanting to capture the moment but he couldn’t think, couldn’t focus on anything but the body moving beneath him and the waves of pleasure it sent through him. Draco’s lips were on his neck, hands touching anywhere they could reach and somewhere in his climax he could hear Draco shout his name.

He collapsed on top of Draco, both breathing heavily. Burying his face in the curve of his neck, Harry breathed in the smell of his skin. Their bony figures did not quite fit but his body was tingling and Draco’s arm around him refused to let go. It wasn’t perfect, but it felt like it.

An eternity passed before they moved again. He rolled off Draco and cast a cleaning charm over them both before returning to the embrace. For a moment he felt completely at ease; Draco’s chest was rising and falling beneath him with an even pace and his warm body kept him untouchable for the world. He realised with a jolt in his stomach that if this was where he’d find himself ten years from now, in these exact arms, he would be exactly where he wanted. For the first time in his life, Harry could see a future which he longed for to come.

 “You love me.” Harry smiled up at Draco, chin resting on his chest.  
“Don’t let it get to your head.” Draco grunted, but his eyes were bright.

Harry suspected it was too late.


End file.
